


tear out all my tenderness

by theformerone



Series: variation on a theme [4]
Category: Naruto
Genre: Anal Fingering, Exhibitionism, F/M, Hand Jobs, Light (very light) Bloodplay, Light Dom/sub, PWP, Sakura is a Top, Sex Club, Strength Kink, Uchiha Sasuke is a Bottom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-02
Updated: 2018-08-02
Packaged: 2019-06-20 08:07:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,115
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15529857
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theformerone/pseuds/theformerone
Summary: Her lips curl around the shell of his ear, her fingers digging hard into his forearm where she’s twisted it behind his back.“You’re in a bad mood,” she says, voice low with something that makes him writhe. “Aren’t you?”





	tear out all my tenderness

Sasuke is losing patience. He has never liked being seen, has never enjoyed it when eyes were dragging on him. He hated it after the massacre and he hates it now, even though he is miles away from Konoha, from Oto, from  _any_ place he has ever been to before. 

He comes here because his name means nothing this far underground. Everyone present is known for one thing or another; it becomes easy to stop keeping track. The den moves sporadically, and word of it comes by mouth and ear. You find it when it's near you, you find it when it isn't. You keep track, or you'll lose it, and you'll never find it again. 

Sasuke found it the first time in Oto. Had seen Kabuto with his head thrown back in ecstasy; had seen Karin leaning over another woman, eyes narrowed as she teased her to tears. He had only watched then, curious and achingly hard. Karin had kept up with it on their travels, would tell Sasuke from time to time when he looked like he was in the mood to venture out with her. 

It crops up in Fire Country from time to time, but Sasuke never goes then. He's always stared at when he's in a spitting distance of Konoha, even in this place where being recognized is the least of anyone's concerns. 

He doesn't like being looked at because of who he is. He likes being looked at because of who he's  _with_. 

Sakura had tailed him in once, when Kakashi sent her to find him a year into his travels. He had been livid. A black haired man with one arm wasn't so uncommon, but pink hair and purple diamonds were two things that were unheard of. He had tried to hustle her out, to take her by the arm, but she had grabbed the back of his neck, her fingers digging into the tender skin there, and held him still. 

She didn't ask any questions. And Sasuke felt less embarrassed. Less exposed. Less like leaving.

Now, whenever Kakashi sends her out after him (because even though Naruto chased him across the world, Sakura knows how to find this place, this place where Sasuke will always be when it crops up near him), she waits here for him. 

He dodges the pillars that speckle the room, where some are tied and have been left, where others are pressed up while they're spread open. Sasuke licks his lips, keeps her in his sight as he tries not to run toward her. 

He drops like a doll with cut strings to his knees when he finds her. She doesn't stop her conversation with another woman, dark skinned and red haired. He presses his cheek onto Sakura's knee, and shudders when she answers with a hand in his hair. For a long time, all he does is breathe, and feel her short nails lightly scratch his scalp. 

Nobody ever really causes much of a scene when they enter separately. For the most part, people ignore your entrance out of courtesy. It's only when you make it past the dance floor that the others look up and notice you. 

Their gazes on Sasuke's shoulders shift between when he stopped at Sakura's feet and when he dropped to his knees before her. He can feel the eyes on him now, but they aren't enough. 

He can feel their recognition like a weight on the back of his neck. He doesn't want them to see him. He wants them to see  _her_. 

Sasuke turns his cheek so he can mouth at the bare skin on Sakura's knee. He presses small kisses there, brief and sharp. It isn't until he bites the tight skin on the top of her knee that her hand tightens in his hair. 

She tugs him back, makes him bare his throat, and the snake in him wants to bite her wrist or making him show her that sensitive skin. He's closer to the snakes than he likes to admit. He bares his canines, the hiss that bubbles out of him a sharp warning. 

Sakura only lifts an eyebrow at him, and Sasuke is reminded that in mushi-ken, the snake always loses to the slug.  

"I don't like your attitude."

Sasuke curls his lip, bares a fang that would spit venom if only he were a sage. Sakura gives his head a sharp yank before she lets him go. She lifts her chin, and Sasuke rolls to his feet with her unspoken order. 

He turns on his heel, doesn't wait for her order. There are more eyes on him now for his insubordination, but they shift to settle on Sakura. They want to see what she's going to do about it. 

Sasuke walks, feels the space between them grow taut with tension as he builds it. He expects it when she catches up to him. She presses him into a black pillar, the weight of her familiar and intoxicating behind him. He's already hard, straining uncomfortably in his pants. He bites his lip to keep himself from making any noise too soon, and she takes his arm and twists it meanly behind his back. 

Even like this, Sasuke could get out of her grasp. He has one arm and it may be bound behind him, but Sasuke is a shinobi; he could shake her. Not with brute force, no, because Sakura has that in spades. What Sasuke has is a wicked speed. He could strike her three times and free himself while she was still surprised. 

He doesn't do more than slam his head back. He knows the headbutt won't catch her on the chin or on the nose. Sakura sticks her other hand in his hair again, forcing his forehead to touch the pillar before she leans in close. Her lips curl around the shell of his ear, her fingers digging hard into his forearm where she’s twisted it behind his back.

“You’re in a bad mood,” she says, voice low with something that makes him writhe. “Aren’t you?”

She gives his arm a little squeeze, her other hand trailing down the back of his neck, and further down still where she hooks her fingers around the waist of his pants. 

"You need to loosen up."

He grits his teeth as she exposes him, pulls his pants down until they pool around his ankles. Her hand leaves him and Sasuke listens to her tug lube out from one of the pockets on her medical apron. He keeps his Rinnegan eye shut, but with his black eye he stares at the few that have shuffled their attention to hang it on the two of them. 

Sasuke doesn't flinch when the lube pools in the little dimple above his crack, but he does squirm when Sakura dips her fingers in it, and drags them down. He starts to move, but Sakura's hand twisting his arm tightens its grip the barest bit, and Sasuke stops moving. 

They aren't worried about him. Maybe a few of them are. They're more curious about Sakura. She always takes him to the private rooms, rarely lets any eyes except for hers on his body. But Sasuke's been itching lately, been biting at her knees, pinching at the skin on her ankles. He does it so that she sees it, because he needs her to be the one who does something about it. 

He feels her press the pad of her thumb against his hole, rubs it against the puckered skin. The touch is heavier than he expects, but it's patient. The blunt edge of her nail catches and Sasuke's breath gets a little stuck in his throat, and then her thumb presses inside. She pushes shallowly, getting him used to the widest part of her knuckle before she replaces her thumb with a full finger in a smooth slow slide. 

He bites the soft wet skin of his bottom lip, and he listens. Conversation dulls around them, shifts to silence while the noise picks up elsewhere. He curls his fingers into a fist, digs his short cut nails into the skin of his palm. `

There's hardly any burn, only the slick slide of Sakura's finger pressing in and pulling back out again, and the strength of her hand holding his arm behind his back. 

She pushes a second finger in, and then there's a stretch, and then a third, and Sakura's steady pace disappears. She presses in closer, lays her chest against Sasuke's bare back. She hooks her fingers in him, searching for, finding, grazing just so against his prostate, and Sasuke grunts, tries to keep his sounds in his mouth. 

He presses back, spreads his legs, rolls his forehead against the pillar in front of them. He opens up more so they can watch her fingers disappear inside of him, can watch her unravel him the way only she can, the way no one else could manage to do. 

Her pace only gets faster, sharper, meaner, and Sasuke swallows around a moan. She drops her hold on his arm, trusting her chest against his back to hold him down, and Sasuke lets out a low sound, a needy sound because he knows that it's more than enough. Sakura can lay her weight on him and he _won't_ be able to move; she's done it before and he knows she'll do it again. 

She wraps her hand around the base of his cock and strokes him in time with the fingers that fuck him. When her fist closes around the tip, she uses her thumb to drag on his foreskin and the weak, " _Ahh_ ," that pours out of Sasuke is the first sound he makes with an open mouth. 

His breathing kicks up, his chest constricted between Sakura's behind him and the pillar in front of him. The heat of her at his back and the unyielding cool of the pillar struggle to steady him. His nostrils flare, and Sasuke is almost sure he hears or feels or  _knows_ there's she's smirking behind him. Sakura lays her mouth against the nape of his neck and when she bites, she bites down  _hard_. 

Sasuke feels the moment when her teeth break the skin. She hooks her fingers inside him, curves her wrist around his cock as she does it, and all of it at once is enough. Sasuke comes in her hand, spilling onto the pillar she's holding him against. She works at him even as he begins to soften, even as his hole grows sensitive around her fingers. She sucks at the wound, bruising it where she knows the collar of his shirt will cover it. Sasuke's legs start to shake. 

In a move that makes his head spin, Sakura leans down to tug his pants up, and sweeps him into her arms on her way back to standing. An attendant sees to the mess he made on the pillar. 

The bite on the back of Sasuke's neck throbs in a dull ache, much weaker than the pains he's known. But it's there, and he won't ask Sakura to heal it. She takes them back to the couch where they started, and instead of dumping Sasuke at her feet, she arranges him in her lap. She runs her fingers over the bruise blooming on the back of his neck. Sasuke feels boneless on her lap. He opens his charcoal eye and tracks the crowd, melting back into nothing, but he sees them. 

A few, here and there, who look at him slumped in her lap and nod appreciatively at Sakura, holding his throat. Sasuke lifts his mouth the barest bit to press his lips to her cheek, feels the skin around her jaw move when she smiles. 

"That was all you wanted?" she asks. "To put on a show?"

Sasuke manages a "Hn," and Sakura lets out a soft little laugh. Her gentle touch on the back of his neck firms into a steady grip. 

"You're such a brat," she murmurs, giving him a little squeeze. "You should've asked. I don't mind showing you off."

Sasuke shrugs a shoulder, but doesn't let his mouth stray from the gentle slope of her jaw. 

"It isn't about me," he breathes, letting the wet curve of his lip catch against her soft skin. Sakura shifts and tilts her head so she can look down at him, the question open on her face. 

Sasuke cants his face up and brushes their lips together. When he says it, he says it straight into her mouth; something to be seen but not heard, something to be watched, observed, admired.  _Wanted_. 

"It's about you."

**Author's Note:**

> there's gonna be a lot of sasuke in this verse. c'est la vie. way more BDSM in this verse than i initially anticipated. 
> 
> who else should should get wreckedt?


End file.
